Now that I’m thirty, there’s nothing left but to be serious and mature all of the time, for the rest of my life.

• The first thing is one I’ve always wondered about: Why is the Yellow Freight Company’s logo orange?
• I saw a big billboard with a bald eagle and American flag that said “America – Bless God”. This doesn’t make any sense. America can’t bless God because God is from whom all blessings flow. The top 3 hits for the phrase could generate no end of cultural criticism writing. I could go on, and would really like to, but I’ll spare everyone.
• It took over a year, but I’ve now trained myself both physically and psychologically to eat smaller portion sizes. That means, on the occasions that I pig out, I’m actually just eating what Americans consider to be normal portions. My weight fluctuates between 178 & 182, and since whenever I try to dip below that, my appetite goes into overdrive, I figure that’s right where my body wants to be.
• Picked up this sweet piece of furniture for $70:

Here are the new wheels, it’s a 2004 Jeep Grand Cherokee.

If you are Catholic and you have informed yourself about this current batch of priestly rape and torture of children and you ignore it, equivocate, rationalize, or otherwise attempt to defend or mitigate the actions of the priestly rapists and torturers of children, the church hierarchy’s response and actions regarding those priestly rapists and torturers, or the responsibility of any clergy or laity who has known the slightest bit about the priestly rape and torture of children, up to and including the Pope, you are an accomplice to the priestly rape and torture of children who are members of the very family you claim to belong to.

If you are Catholic and you have informed yourself about this current batch of priestly rape and torture of children (some of which has been perpetrated by priests for longer than I have been alive), and you wish to hold on to some modicum of respect for yourself, you must:

• Examine your conscience, especially if you feel inclined to equivocate, rationalize or otherwise attempt to defend anything having to do with the priestly rape and torture of children;
• Hold the perpetrators of these crimes, and the institution that has enabled their sin fully accountable for their actions, in the courts of law, with prison sentences, and do all that you can to make sure that they are held fully accountable by society;
• Repent for the sins of the Body you belong to;
• Take a penance. The Church Itself should take on a penance, disclosing all information it has related to the priestly rape and torture of children, and changing its policies, procedures and culture of non-responsibility and secrecy to something a bit more humble and Christ-like.
• Then, after all this has been accomplished, hope for forgiveness.

I want to hear no arguments about how unfair the media or anyone else is treating the Catholic Church. I want to hear no arguments about how the Pope isn’t responsible, or any disagreement regarding possible reasons why the institution that has enabled the priestly rape and torture of children is being targeted. I want to hear no misdirection of blame, no calls for me to explain how I can feel righteous enough to make these claims when I’m a sinner myself. My position is unassailable. I have the moral high ground here. There are very few, if any moral grounds lower than the rape and torture of children.

If you do any of these things, you are enabling the continuing, chronic and depraved culture that currently protects those priests who rape and torture children.

There is and can be no defense for the priestly rape and torture of children, ever.

What do all Catholics, but especially Church Itself need from the rest of the world? Attempts at empathy, prayer, and the hands of justice, both scale and sword.

UPDATE: Andrew Sullivan is a little bit nicer about it.

No one slept well last night, or the night before, except for people who were drunk or are usually insomniac. Yesterday, I had to literally sit on Abraham in order to get him clothed, no one had a good day at work, and a vacant house owned by an absentee predatory loan scammer exploded and damaged fifty-five other homes, and displaced fifteen families.

Today I was verbally abused by a crazy black woman on the bus who nearly sat on me, and then accused me of trying to run her over. She referred to every black person as an animal and every white person as a dirty human. All at the top of her lungs.

However, I just gave blood and now I’m eating leftover chili and a peanut butter sandwich at home.

It’s going to be a challenge, but I always rise to those. I’ve not exercised my math muscles in a decade, so I expect there will be some necessary cobweb-blowing in the first weeks.

Personally, the new decade hasn’t started out much better. On New Year’s Eve, Bram was sick. On New Year’s Day I came down with the same thing and lost 7 pounds in 36 hours, probably should have gone to the hospital, and spent the next 3 days hobbling about like an old man. During this time Debbie’s brother got whatever it was. And the babysitter, and the babysitter’s husband, and another kid she watches, and that kid’s parents.

So Tuesday I feel up to going to work. I put on my dress shirt and lo, a tear in the left elbow. What the hell? Whatever. I put on another dress shirt and lo, a tear in the left elbow. What the fuck? Whatever. I put on a sweater and go to work. While walking to the bus stop, I get a call to find out that my uncle’s father died the night before. He wasn’t blood kin, but he might as well have been. 92 years old, a great and good man, a patriarch of the 20th century.

So enough of the crap from the last decade.

Instead of studying for my Intro to Public Adminstration final, which is tomorrow, I baked. Dark chocolate brownies (so dark they look like coal), 7 layer bars, and chocolate-dipped pretzel rods. So much to do, so little time left before the holidays.

I still have a hard time admitting that I’m wrong about things. Thankfully my relationship with Deborah has helped me be better at saying “I don’t know” in both my private and professional lives. I’ve gotten better at supporting my own arguments and positions, and hopefully more tactful as well. I’d like to think that the result is a more refined and mature version of myself, but I’m still quite aware of just how far I have to go. Awareness of the extent of my faults is another bonus. The takeaway from this is that I am a person who is going to constantly be setting myself tasks for learning, teaching and growing.

We even got the Christmas tree up.

He decided to take another x-ray from a different angle, to get a look in between my patella and knee joint. This was done promptly and it was discovered that I have a meniscal ossicle, basically a loose chip of bone floating around in there. That’s what’s likely been causing my pain. There’s nothing to be done apart from trying to make my legs even stronger (and going to a physical therapist to get some exercises) and start taking glucosamine sulfate (not chondroitin) to improve my joint health.

I was leery of the glucosamine stuff since it costs the earth, but the doctor suggested I get it from… Wal-Mart. I was even more leery of this, but my knee hurts so much I went shopping. At Walgreen’s a two-month supply of 2,000mg glucosamine sulfate would cost me $120. It was about the same at Rite Aid. Target doesn’t carry it. So I went to Wal-Mart. I got a three-month supply of 2,000mg glucosamine sulfate for $13. It was almost worth the near agoraphobic meltdown that Wal-Mart engenders.